Lost in the Woods.
One writer contends that the pocket compass is but very little use to
a man in a dense forest. This, I think, depends largely upon
circumstances. While the writer has spent a good portion of fifty
years almost continuously in the woods, he has seldom found it
necessary to use a compass to guide him out. Now this is due partly
to the natural faculty of locating any particular place. This faculty
of locating any certain place or point by giving or knowing the
proper direction to take after one has traveled all day or for
several days in the woods, I am inclined to credit to a sort of
natural instinct.
I have often thought of the story of the Indian who was met by a man
in the woods who asked the Indian if he was lost. The reply was, "No,
me ain't lost, wigwam lost, me here." Now I can say without boasting
that it is seldom that the camp or a given point gets lost with me,
while it is not an uncommon occurrence for the writer to get lost or
rather bothered himself in a strange locality. But after a moment's
thought, I say the camp or the point I wish to reach is in that
direction, and it is not often that I miss my calculation.
As I have had several occasions to search for parties lost in the
woods, I wish to relate a particular instance of one man who was
lost. It was an uncle of mine by the name of Nelson, and the writer
went in search of him. To illustrate that those who are lost lose
their heads as soon as they find that they do not know where they
are.
Now I wish to say that if you lost your course or get bothered in
your bearings, do not lose your head, for if you do you are lost, but
keep cool and keep your head. Sit down and fill your pipe, and while
you smoke draw a map of the country carefully in your mind, and
almost invariably you will locate yourself and in so doing will
locate the camp.
To get back to the lost man in question whose name was Amos Fish, and
at the time, was the proprietor of the Cherry Springs Hotel, in this
county. This hotel was located in the heart of the largest forest in
Pennsylvania, and originally was a great resort for hunters from all
over the state as well as southern and western New York. (The time of
which I write was somewhere in the 60's--have forgotten exact date.)
There were several men boarding at this hotel and my uncle and myself
were among the number boarding with Mr. Fish, hunting, as were other
boarders. This hotel stood in the center of a field containing
perhaps eighty acres of cleared land, and there was not another
clearing or a building within a distance of seven miles.
One morning after there had been a fall of four or five inches of
snow, which made fine tracking, Mr. Fish thought that he would go out
that morning and try and kill a deer. He left the house going through
the field in nearly a due east course. After going about one mile he
crossed a stream which ran in a north and south direction. Mr. Fish
had fished this stream for trout many a time. After crossing this
stream Mr. Fish crossed a broad ridge and went on to a small stream
known as the Sunken Branch, and a tributary of the stream Mr. Fish
had previously crossed. Now Mr. Fish was fairly well acquainted with
the location which he was in, but in his search for deer he had got a
little mixed in his whereabout and at once lost his head.
My uncle when coming in from hunting that evening crossed Mr. Fish's
track on the ridge near the head of the Sunken Branch, and had heard
him shoot several times but supposed that he was shooting at deer.
When the hunters all got in that night and Mr. Fish failed to appear,
the matter was discussed by the hunters from all points of view. It
was generally thought that Mr. Fish had had good luck killing deer
and had been detained in dressing and hanging them up, or that he had
wounded a deer and had been led a long way from home in getting it.
When it got well along in the evening and Mr. Fish failed to come
then it was feared that he had met with some misfortune. No one would
believe that he was lost, as it was known that he was pretty well
acquainted with the woods in the direction that he had been known to
take. But as the time went on and still Mr. Fish did not come, we all
began to fear for his safety, as the night was very cold, so every
few minutes some one would go out and fire a gun. This was continued
all night, though there was no answer.
My uncle and myself had an early breakfast and started some time
before daybreak for the locality in which uncle had seen Mr. Fish's
tracks and heard gun shots which were thought to have been fired by
him. Shortly after daybreak we found the track of a man which we
could readily see had been made during the night. After following the
track some distance we were convinced that we were following the
track of Mr. Fish and he was lost, for his tracks would go in a
zigzag sort of a circle and crossing his tracks previously made.
After we had followed Mr. Fish's track for an hour or longer we saw
him coming nearly towards us with his hat in his hand. We stood still
and he came close to us before he seemed to notice us. He had no gun,
and when he stopped he stared at us and did not seem to know us.
Uncle then spoke to him and said, "Amos, what is the matter, are you
lost?" Mr. Fish replied that he wanted to go to the Cherry Springs
Hotel. In a few minutes after eating a good lunch which we had
carried with us for that purpose, he seemed to know us.
When questioned as to what he had done with his gun, he apparently
had forgotten that he ever had a gun. But after a time seemed to
remember the gun in a vague sort of way, and said that he must have
left it by a tree but could not tell in what direction the tree was.
After a search of a half hour we found the gun standing by a tree
where apparently Mr. Fish had traveled around for some time.
When we came to the creek on our way to the house and at the place
where Mr. Fish had crossed it in the morning before, he asked what
stream it was. When told that it was the place where he had crossed
the creek the morning before and asked if he did not remember the
creek as he had fished there many a time, he said that he had no
recollection of ever seeing the stream before. Shortly we came out
into the field and Mr. Fish did not know his own house. Asked who
lived there and did not seem to recognize his own home until he had
been inside the house for several minutes with his family.
I have related this instance of Mr. Fish to show how necessary it is
for one who has got slightly mixed in his course to keep cool and not
allow himself to become excited. If he does he immediately loses his
head and is at once lost, as in the case of Mr. Fish. He was at no
time more than four miles from his house, and was quite familiar with
the ground he was on during the whole time. He was lost while
following the deer that he was in pursuit of. They led him into a
windfall perhaps containing one hundred acres, and it was while in
this that he became bothered as to the right course to go to his
house. He at once lost his head, or more proper, his reasoning
faculties, and at once became lost.
Mr. Fish was east of the ridge and road and as he had a compass, all
there was for him to do was to consult the compass and go west to the
road, but Mr. Fish declared that his compass would not work, and it
might have been possible that he held the compass so close to the gun
barred that the compass did not work properly.
In my more than fifty years' life in the woods as a trapper and
hunter, it has been my lot to search for several persons lost in the
woods. Once in these same woods I searched for three weeks for a
little child four years old. At first the search for days was carried
on by more than a hundred men, then another man and myself continued,
then my companion gave it up. I continued alone for days, but there
has never been a trace of the child seen or heard of, since its
grandmother last saw the little fellow sitting on the door step
eating a piece of bread and butter on the morning of its
disappearance, along in the early 80's.
To speak of the use of the pocket compass, I would say to the trapper
or hunter that where he can it is best to locate his camp when in a
section of a country where the woods are very large, and the trapper
or hunter is not well acquainted with the locality, on a stream or in
a valley of considerable size, or near a public highway or some
landmark that is readily recognized by the trapper. Even thought it
may be after nightfall, for the thrifty trapper or hunter will
oftener find himself on the trail after the stars are shining than he
will in camp before dark. Now it is quite necessary that the camper
should first acquaint himself with these land marks for some distance
either side of his camp (when I say some distance I mean miles) and
especially get the general course or direction that the stream runs
or other landmarks, for this is where the real use of the pocket
compass comes in play.
Now when you start out place out a line of traps or on the trail of a
deer or other animal, all that there is to be done is to know whether
you are on the south, north or other direction, as the case may be,
from this valley or other landmarks. Now the trapper or hunter soon
becomes so accustomed to traveling in the woods that when he makes up
his mind to strike for camp, he can tell about how long it will take
him to reach this valley that the camp is located in. When the time
comes to go to camp consult the compass, and as it is known what
direction to take to hit the camp, or at least the stream or other
landmark on which the camp is located.
Yes, boys, if any one is in the habit of getting lost the pocket
compass is a very useful instrument in finding the way, providing it
is properly used. Let me say, however, that no matter how often "the
shanty gets lost," don't lose your head, for if you do, the compass
or the landmarks will do you no good.